I am envisioning a faceless future.
Wait…there is a face but its blur... obscure...
May be I m lost in the battle for the share of voice...
Is that why I try hard listening to my own unsung songs.
Living at the edge of precipice.
Feeling a bit intimidated by the vastness that surrounds me that is pulling me in, like a whirlpool......
Not fear..not emptiness... not even loneliness...
I sing loud ... but I realise its just me and no one else that can hear me...
My throat goes dry and I suddenly feel I am screaming on top of my lungs ….
They are oblivious to the screams.. Unaffected by the songs I sing….
They probably can’t hear...
And I scream louder and louder..
Till I can scream no more...
I realise I m singing songs that are yet to be written...
Songs of wars that are yet to happen..
Of dreams that persist...
Of my own tryst....
May be its not time yet.
May be the words are not right...
May be I am non existent.. still unborn …
Is that why I try hard listening to my own unsung songs..
